Saggezza (Wisdom)
by D of The DA's Office
Summary: Chris and Rita take a break from setting up their new apartment by spending an unforgettable evening with friends of Grandma Rose. This special couple, whose bond mirrors that of The Sams, provide the newlywed parents-to-be with spellbinding insight on the rarest of loves.


_In this post-5th Season piece, the Sams are partners, head-over-heels in love, married, and expecting their first child._

* * *

"Sam, have you seen the box marked 'bedding'?"

Rita chuckled from her spot on the living room floor and took a deep breath to yell over the columns of boxes that surrounded her. "I can't even find the 'bed room'!" She stood up and tossed an empty box aside. "Or you, for that matter. Marco!"

Two strong arms encircled her waist from behind, pulling her flush against an equally strong frame. "Polo," came the husky whisper, soft on her cheek.

Rita unconsciously closed her eyes and dipped her head, exposing her neck and letting her husband take full advantage of the find. Chris slowly kissed and caressed his way around, coming to stand in front of Rita, but never once breaking the contact between their bodies.

Lost in his arms, and completely content, Rita passionately kissed him back, moaning softly.

Of course, the moment was to be broken by the ringing of an unseen telephone.

Chris groaned. "How come we hung out for years as friends and never got bothered, but now every time you're in my arms the phone rings?" he griped, tossing around stacks of packing paper searching for the offending interference. "Lorenzo," he growled.

Rita listened, knowing it must be the Captain, and considered Chris' question. He definitely made a valid point: this was at least the fourth time someone had called and interrupted them. Still, that did have some kickbacks. Slyly, she sauntered over to him, brushing herself against his side and taking his free ear between her teeth. A fiendish delight filled her as she heard his voice catch, and she lazily traced her tongue across his smooth skin, releasing him only when his conversation was finished.

Crystal blue eyes darkened with desire as Chris whipped his head toward his siren torturer. "You are a mean woman, Sam."

"What? You didn't like that?"

"Oh, I liked it."

"What did the Captain say?"

"He wanted us to know that the Montoya case is wrapped up. Cap took out Montoya himself, and the hockey player who shot at us was DOA at Bayside. That's all she wrote." With a predatory glint, Chris paused before gently pulling his wife up against him. "Now, where were we?"

Rita's heart skipped a beat as she reveled in this new intimacy. Now that Chris was hers forever, she simply couldn't get enough of him. "Right about here," she purred.

"Are you hungry, Rita?" Chris murmured in between kisses.

"Ah huh..." she replied, barely concentrating on the words. As Chris suddenly took a step back, she was forced to open her eyes and focus.

"Good! Let's eat! There's no way we can cook here yet, and I don't feel like Wan Lu's, and I want you to meet the Ambrosios. You and the _bambino_ need a good meal tonight."

"Sam!" It was Rita's turn to pout as Chris turned the tables on her with a rational idea that was usually her game. She attacked his sides. "I can't believe you're thinking of your stomach at a time like this!"

"Not mine!" Chris cried, trying to escape. "You have to keep your strength up, Rita." The more Chris squirmed, the more Rita assailed his ribs, until he lifted her off the ground and spun them around, both laughing. As Rita's foot hit a box in one of the towers they froze, anticipating an avalanche. When it didn't come, Chris returned Rita to the floor. "Truce!" he pleaded, trying to catch his breath.

"Mmm," Rita replied, narrowing her eyes at him, still simmering and snickering. "Fine. Yes, the baby and I could eat."

"Good. Thank you very much. You're gonna love the Ambrosios, Sam."

"They were friends with your Grandma Rose, right?"

"Yeah," Chris nodded, his voice taking on a dreamy, nostalgic quality. "I call them _zia_ and _zio_, aunt and uncle. When I lived with my grandma, we would always visit them at their restaurant. Man, I could sit there for hours listening to their stories about the 'Old Country.' And, well, then of course there was the food. _Zia _Giuliana makes the best manicotti, the best fettuccine all'Abruzzese, the best arrabbiata sauce – I'm telling you, Sam, everything she makes is out of this world."

"Okay, okay, you had me at the manicotti," Rita laughed, enjoying Chris' childlike enthusiasm. "Do you know where your keys are?"

"That much I do know."

As they got ready to leave, they looked around the beautiful chaos that was their new apartment. In the spirit of true compromise, with the ease that made them Sams, they had decided on a "downtown loft with an ocean view." It was perfect, and, most importantly, it was theirs. Together. A shared home for a shared life. No more ping-ponging back and forth from each other's own space. In fact, the entire conversation had transpired while wrapped together in a blanket, volleying barbs about the other's apartment. With their soul-binding love already professed, this single decision would dismantle the last remaining barrier that kept them apart.

* * *

Out in the hall, Chris and Rita automatically gravitated toward each other. They interlaced fingers, laughing at the realization, and recited in unison, "the hands," that Captain Lipschitz had already brought to their attention.

A small boy about eight came barreling in their direction, clutching a bundle of mail. "Hi, Mrs. Lorenzo!" he beamed as he raced past.

Chris immediately froze.

"Hi, Jason!" Rita replied to the fleeting figure. As explanation, she added to Chris, "I met him and his family yesterday. They live across the hall from us."

But Chris' thoughts were not on their young neighbor. "Rita..."

The two syllables were spoken so softly, with overwhelming reverence. Chris was moved beyond words, and he felt his heart swell. Radiant blue eyes locked with understanding green, soulfully communicating all he couldn't express verbally.

Shyly, Rita remarked, "would you like to hear it again? 'Mrs. Lorenzo.' I love it, Chris... I love hearing it as much as you do. We kept this hidden from ourselves and from the world for far too long... I want everyone to know. You gave me your heart, and you gave me your name – I'm honored at both. With work, I'm forced to trade my title for rank, but when we're off-duty... I'm married, and I'm yours."

How in the world had he become so blessed? "Rita, I love you."

"And I love you."

* * *

It had been months since Chris had last stopped by_ Brigantino's_, and he was eager to see Giuliana and Giuseppe. They exuded the same wisdom his grandmother had possessed, and in her absence, he respected and trusted their advice as he would hers. He couldn't wait to get their impressions of Rita. Holding open the heavy, wooden door, Chris placed a hand on the small of Rita's back and followed her into the dimness.

Rita instantly gaped in amazement. The restaurant enraptured her with a feast for the senses, so stunning in its authenticity she felt as if she had set foot upon Italy itself.

Time seemed to slow its pace as the magic of the ambiance cast its spell of serenity.

"Chris, this is incredible!"

Rita's excitement allowed Chris to view their surroundings with renewed wonder.

He inhaled deeply, letting the intoxicating array of aromas carry him years into the past. "'The spices of life,'" he exclaimed, quoting the older generation. He grinned, giving his head a quick shake.

"Cristoforo!" An older man, slightly shorter than Chris, was striding toward them with a bounce in his step that indicated a vitality undimmed by his advanced age. In fact, his entire demeanor resonated with this exuberance, as uniquely Italian as was his olive complexion, thick, silvery hair, and bushy mustache. Giuseppe Ambrosio drew nearer until, realizing that Chris was not alone, he instantly froze. "_Dio mio_!" he gasped. Awestricken reverence illuminated his face. "_La magia..._" Recovering quickly, he apologized. "_Scusi, Signora_."

Chris was stunned. "How did you know she was my wife?"

Deep brown eyes twinkled at him as they peered over wire-rimmed glasses. "As I said, _la magia_. Sheer magic. Together, you possess the rarest of loves. So rare, that in all my life, I have seen it in just one other couple... Giuliana and myself."

Speechless, Chris could only marvel at Giuseppe's foresight, while Rita, for her part, studied the charming gentleman with great intent. She was definitely intrigued. As she caught Giuseppe's eye, she extended her hand. "_Signor_ Ambrosio, I'm Rita."

At that, Giuseppe slowly nodded. "Of course, you are." His soft tone suggested that pieces of a puzzle known only to him had finally clicked into place. He clasped Rita's hand with both of his. "You are Chris' best friend and partner. We have heard so much about you throughout the years." He placed a kiss on the back of her hand. "Please, call me, _Zio_."

Although the smile Rita offered was a shy one, Chris knew that Giuseppe had made a deep and fond impression on her.

"_Zio_, then," she exclaimed with conviction, her grin widening.

Giuseppe welcomed the couple further into his restaurant, announcing that they were to have the best seats in the house. He wrapped one arm around Chris' shoulders and extended the crook of his other arm to Rita. As he led them, he leaned his head toward Rita. "So," he inquired, "you are to be a _mamma_, _sì_?"

"Yes, I am," Rita replied, glowing.

"I am _so_ happy for you both." Chuckling, he added, "prepare yourself for the reaction of my Giuliana. She will be... Well, let us just say that she will be _thrilled_. Ah, here we are!"

The threesome reached the back of the restaurant and the semi-secluded alcove, encased in glass, which overlooked the ocean.

"Oh!" Rita whispered in awe. As the first to be seated, she was afforded the time to gaze once more around the whole restaurant and outdoor view as the gentlemen accompanying her became situated. "Everything is absolutely breathtaking," she complimented Giuseppe, still enchanted.

Giuseppe bowed in appreciation as he added his chair to the table for two. Off Rita's piqued interest, he spent the next few minutes proudly discussing his restaurant: its roots, its history, its decorations steeped in symbolism, its stone and woodwork imported straight from his and Giuliana's village in Italy.

* * *

Rita's attention was drawn to an elderly woman who was stopping to chat with patrons at each table. Her energy level and stature reminded Rita of Fran Lipschitz, while her inner radiance was the living definition of "_la vita è bella_," and matched Giuseppe's. Surely, she was Giuliana Ambrosio.

As Giuliana approached where Rita was sitting with both their husbands, she let out an excited cry and made a beeline for the younger man. "Cristoforo! Why didn't you tell me you were here?! Peppe! Why didn't you tell me Cristoforo was here?!"

Giuseppe raised his hands in good-natured contrition, while Chris was on his feet a mere beat before Giuliana reached his arms. He closed his eyes for a moment and held her. "How are you, _Zia_?"

Giuliana framed Chris' face with both hands, kissing him on one cheek, then the other. "I'm wonderful, handsome."

Chris placed a hand onto Rita's shoulder. "_Zia_," he began.

Giuliana now focused on the beautiful woman who needed no introduction. "_You_ are Rita, _sì_? It could be only you. _Che bellisima_!" She offered Rita a warm embrace then looked back and forth from her to Chris, concentrating. "_L'amore più raro di tutte_," she whispered reverently.

Giuseppe let out a laugh as his wife mirrored his earlier definition. "_Grazie_, Giulia! 'The rarest love of all.' What did I tell you two?"

"It's amazing..." Giuliana exclaimed, still spellbound. She quickly adjusted to the shock, and moved to stand behind Giuseppe. "Oh, and Peppe! There's going to be a _bambino_!" A flurry of rapid Italian followed, and Giuliana once again threw her arms around the parents-to-be.

Giuseppe caught Rita's eye, gesturing their inside joke by tapping his index finger against his nose and winking at her.

"_Mi scusi_ – I am sorry," Giuliana offered, taking a deep breath. "We will talk more on that later, but first, let us start at the beginning. Come now, how long have you been in love?"

Sitting back down, Chris beamed, "we've been married almost a month!"

While thrilled at his zeal, Giuliana could only shake her head and try to hide her amusement. "Cristoforo," she sighed, "you are not listening."

Knowing she would not get the correct response from him, Giuliana turned her attention to Rita. "Rita, I must know. How long have you loved Cristoforo? He has loved you for years. We have known it since we first heard your name. You were different from _everyone_ else."

Rita looked to Chris and smiled. "From the minute I met him, I just knew," she exclaimed, quoting the affirmation she had confessed on the park bench mere seconds before they leapt up and exchanged vows.

Giuliana offered an elated cry and, as she graciously accepted the chair Giuseppe pulled out for her, remarked, "I knew that would be so!"

Tearing her glance away from Chris, Rita refocused on their hosts. Fueled by Giuliana's enthusiasm, she shared the entire conversation from that magical day, emphasizing that it was the first time they had ever confided this truth and admitted it out loud. "But, it took _years _to reach that honesty," she concluded, her voice wistful.

"_Nine_ years," Chris added, equally repentant. "You said it yourself, _Zia_. I've loved her the whole time, and yet I only came to my senses a month ago."

The older couple was quick to combat the air of remorse, volleying their wisdom in an effortless exchange between one another.

"Do not regret lost time," Giuseppe gently ordered. "You were not ready. You had lessons to learn. Your souls may have united at first glance, but your hearts needed to prepare."

Giuliana continued, "it was necessary. After all, this is quite powerful, _sì_? Never feel that that time was wasted, for you had each other always. It is your friendship, the bond you maintained through all those years, that gives your passion a solid, endless foundation."

"_Esattamente_," Giuseppe stated in strong agreement, "exactly. You 'loved' each other before there was passion! Your love is special; it sets you apart from all other couples. I assure you, you will not be like your peers. You will not partake in the pettiness of other relationships because your time together is precious. You will argue differently, for communication is second nature to you. You will blaze through your newfound passion and preserve the closeness that has sustained you all these years. Indeed, your time was not wasted. No, for you, it is impossible to distinguish when friendship ends and love begins. There is no such place!"

Chris leaned toward Rita, but spoke loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. "Did I mention that _Zia _and _Zio_ always have all the answers?" He waited for the laughter to quiet before continuing. "No, you make an excellent point – several, excellent points. We've had to defend we were 'just friends' for as long as I can remember, and I think it helped us convince ourselves, as well. It probably wouldn't have been so hard if it had actually been true. But, you're right, there has always been friendship and there has always been love. Man, we wrote the book on rationalization!"

"Word games," Rita added, chuckling. "See, we would always say 'I love you' to each other. We've done that for years. But, the trick was to believe that it was different from 'I'm _in love_ with you.' That, made it safe. Because, yes, this _is_ powerful, and neither one of us knew how to handle it. It was so much easier just to date other people and have other relationships."

"Yeah, and it's not like we've ever been jealous of that or anything."

Rita blinked. "Never been jealous," she repeated. She arched her eyebrows and tilted her head forward, waiting for the punch line. "And what would happen if you were there when I'd be leaving on a date?"

All eyes focused on Chris.

"Well, I'd –" Chris cleared his throat, buying himself some time. "I'd kind of warn the guy off her."

Giuseppe laughed in solid camaraderie while Giuliana uttered Chris' name in mock reprimand.

Rita giggled. "Well, I can't be too hard on him for it. Whenever a date would meet me at the station, Chris and I would actually kiss each other goodbye. Can you believe that? I can only imagine what the guy must have been thinking."

Giuliana and Giuseppe exchanged knowing glances. "You see?" Giuliana exclaimed. "This only strengthens our point. Trust us, you were always meant to be together. Nothing could have stopped it, and I daresay that, even after denying it for so long, it must feel that not much has changed."

A lopsided, Cheshire-cat grin slowly spread across Rita's face. "It's funny you mention that... The day we were married, we had dinner together that night and sat on the couch together. We've done this a million times before, right? So, we're sitting there, trying to decide what was different – because _something_ had to be, I mean, we're married now. And yet, all we could come up with was, well, 'it's legal now!'"

"Ah, but of course!" Giuseppe replied, amused at the predicament. He paused, stroking his mustache while deep in thought. "So simple, yet so powerful a truth. Yes, quite perfect for you both. The parallels are astonishing. Think, you are partners who are willing to give your lives for what is legal, and the law is sacred to you. You took an oath to serve and to protect. Now, do I speak of your profession or your marriage?"

Chris and Rita stared at each other in wide-eyed fascination.

Giuseppe continued, "and, if I am not mistaken, your position of detective has a shield that is referred to as 'gold.' Because of your hard work, you _earned_ this badge of gold – just as you earned the band of gold you now so proudly display on your left hands. Both send bold statements that command respect. Yes, how very appropriate it is that the only difference in your relationship is legality."

Rita was overwhelmed by the beautiful correlation Giuseppe offered. "Wow... I never thought of it like that before."

Chris, equally moved, softly added, "_Zio_ and _Zia_ also have a very special knack for pointing out the obvious to me."

"They really do have all the answers, Sam," Rita joked, echoing Chris' earlier admission in an effort to shake her emotional state.

At that, Giuliana chuckled and arose from the table. "Come now, you must eat. What will be your pleasure?"

"Chris tells me your manicotti is legendary, _Zia_. I haven't stopped thinking about it since he mentioned it so I will have that with your arrabbiata sauce."

"_Una scelta perfetta_! A perfect choice, Rita! You will not be disappointed. Cristoforo?"

Chris offered his great-aunt a boyish grin as he pretended to make a decision, though she wasn't fooled for a moment.

"Your usual," Giuliana responded. It was not a question.

"My usual."

Though Giuliana shook her head from side to side, her eyes danced with mirth. "I will make you both something special before your meals as well."

As Giuliana excused herself and headed for the kitchen, Giuseppe watched her leave with a tender expression. Not breaking his gaze from his beloved, he asked of the young couple, "it's all-consuming, isn't it?"

"Actually, yes," Rita replied frankly. "Yes, it is."

A mischievous grin swept across Chris' face. "_Zio_, you should have seen us that first day. We tried so hard to fight it. To pretend like nothing ever happened. Looking back, it's easy to see where everything would lead and fall into place – but at the time? We couldn't focus on our case, we couldn't focus on anything. Between the daydreaming and the amount of discussions we had about _not_ discussing it... Yeah...totally consuming. Man!" Chris shook his head, laughing at the memory. "Can you explain it, _Zio_?"

"Yes," Rita added, "if there is any language or culture that could define this, it's Italian. I mean, we both have been in love before...but this..."

"Ah, _Dio_, it is so difficult to describe, is it not?"

Before Giuseppe could comment further, Giuliana called him from the entryway of the stockroom, pointing to a delivery. "_Grazie_, _Tesoro_," he replied.

Rita looked to him, somehow alert with understanding.

"Your soul recognized that, _sì_? '_Tesoro_?' There are some concepts, adages, that transcend spoken language. You heard with your ears the Italian for 'sweetheart, darling.' But, what your soul heard – what your heart understood – is the direct translation from Italian to English, which is 'treasure.' _She_ is my treasure. My _everything_. The greatest..." Giuseppe laughed. "As I said, spoken word is quite limited in its explanation for what the four of us share."

"Maybe it doesn't need explanation," Chris pondered in complete seriousness. "You know? Maybe '_Tesoro_' says it all." Ducking his head, as was his way, he fixated his gaze on Rita. "Maybe 'Sam' says it all, too."

At that, Giuseppe beamed and nodded in full approval. "You are learning, Cristoforo."

* * *

Rita watched Giuseppe, humming to the music, enter the open kitchen and head straight for Giuliana, who was instructing the chef. He caught her off-guard, spinning her toward him so they ended up cheek to cheek, dancing for a few beats. Laughing, they pulled away just enough to stare into each other's eyes, and Rita gasped. The overwhelming love took her breath away.

"Is that what people see?"

Chris followed Rita's intense look, catching a glimpse of the older couple's soul-binding moment before the world filtered back in, and Giuliana turned back to the chef and Giuseppe danced off to complete whatever task had brought him to the kitchen in the first place.

"Is that what they mean when we look at each other?"

With one accord, they tested this notion, meeting each other's gaze and concentrating on the stunning array of emotions that had always flowed unchecked between them whenever they allowed their eyes to lock.

Chris offered his wife the trademark smile he had long-since reserved for her alone. "It must be, Sam." With a gentle hand, he traced the flow of her hair as it shaped her face. "It must be."

Slowly, unconsciously, Rita nodded in newfound understanding. "It's beautiful," she whispered, marveling at the precious gift mirrored to her by their special friends.

* * *

Giuliana set down a tray of homemade, apricot and cashew biscotti and three small glasses. "_Sambuca con mosca_," she announced, adding that the liqueur was not "with flies" as the name suggested, but served with three coffee beans a piece for health, happiness, and prosperity. To Rita, she presented a strawberry ricotta smoothie. "Protein," she whispered conspiratorially. "Give you energy."

"I propose a toast," announced Giuseppe. As four glasses raised, he exclaimed, "to the family who has gone on before us, to the family with us now, and for the family that is to come!"

"Cheers!"

"Hear, hear!"

"_Cent'anni_!"

The foursome continued conversing and laughing the night away, as the restaurant slowly cleared of patrons.

Giuliana then got up from the table and requested, "come with me, Rita. There is something I want to show you." With that, she led Rita toward her and Giuseppe's office.

When the two women were out of earshot, Chris leaned forward across the table. "Should I be worried here?"

Giuseppe, for his part, only smiled. He was lost in thought as his gaze trailed after their wives. "Rosa would have adored her," he murmured. He looked back to Chris. "She is at peace knowing you found such a love."

Chris lowered his head, nodding. "She meant so much to me… She still does. I learned _how_ to love from her. Most, if not all the qualities Rita loves in me, I can attribute to Grandma Rose. Her influence and her love made me the man I am today. I – I owe her a lot."

* * *

"Beautiful," Rita whispered, as she and Giuliana entered the small room that seemed more like a cozy sitting room than a business office.

Giuliana went over to her antique secretary desk and picked up a small frame, handing it to Rita.

A loving smile instantly lit Rita's face. "Aww... This _must_ have been taken when he was staying with his grandma." She concentrated on the pre-teen image of her Sam. "His eyes have healed," she murmured. Rita looked up from the photo. "I remember, years ago, looking through an album of his. There were pictures – he's a few years younger than this – he's smiling...but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, you know? There's a loneliness there. You can almost feel it." Rita ducked her head, confessing, "I have felt it..."

"Your past was painful as well, wasn't it, Rita?" Off the silent nod, Giuliana gently continued. "You have a resiliency, a fire about you. A strength that comes from enduring much. Those of us who know that pain can recognize it in others."

"You, _Zia_?"

"Not in my childhood, but yes. Peppe and I were in the Resistance in The War. We both saw so much... There was always danger, but then Peppe took a secret mission. For several weeks, I was _certain_ I was going to lose him."

"I understand," Rita exclaimed fervently. "Chris and I both have had close calls at work. Too close. We are trained to accept it as part of the job, but when you are the one who's left waiting to see if your partner will live or die, it is a nightmare."

"And it is – how do you say – 'no picnic' when that one man means everything in your life, _sì_?"

Rita scoffed at the sentiment. "Oh, yeah... That's – that's a little scary. Okay, more than a little."

Giuliana chuckled in return. "Ah, _cara_, you and I are alike. Peppe is my best friend. We have been friends since we were school kids. He is my husband, the father of my children. He is also my business partner. This one man fills every important role in my life!"

At that, Rita's demeanor brightened. "Exactly!" she stated emphatically, pleased they shared such a powerful parallel and that she had finally found someone who understood her position. She grew quiet, realizing that her steadfast instinct to keep all personal information private was also muted. Giuliana was special; Rita knew this in her heart after only two hours with her. If she needed further proof, Chris loved and trusted her, and that would always be good enough for Rita. Encouraged, she asked, "is that why I hesitated, _Zia_? When we became involved, romantically, Chris didn't have a single doubt. When we found out I was pregnant, he didn't have a single doubt. When he wanted us to get married..." Rita trailed off, furrowing her brow.

"If they mean so much to us, why hesitate? Why be afraid?" Giuliana sighed and slowly nodded her head in understanding. "We are the rational ones, are we not?" She paused, collecting her thoughts and searching for a response that would be deemed acceptable by the strong young woman before her, who so much reminded her of herself at that age. "To surrender...to such a powerful love – even one you have always known was there, even if it is everything you would ever want with the only person you would ever want – is frightening. This was the last, the only role Cristoforo had yet to fill in your life. There was much to risk. Also, do not forget, you spent nine years fighting this destiny. No one can fault you if fears lingered past your acceptance. And, your doubts lasted beyond those of Cristoforo for several reasons."

Taking a seat on the sofa, Giuliana gestured for Rita to join her. "Let me share something with you. Cristoforo called us before he left Boston. Something...had changed. His mind was set – and I understand it now that I have met you. He was ready to accept his destiny with you. He had dealt with his fears and was ready to make his move. That, Rita, is the advantage you did not have. You did not make the first move. You were put in the position of 'reacting.' Also, you mentioned how hard it is when one of you has a close call at work. You, yourself had a brush with death just recently, did you not?"

"I was knocked unconscious from an explosion. Our Captain was able to reach Chris at his apartment just as he got in from Boston."

"Ah!" Giuliana exclaimed triumphantly, having never known the time frame. She patted Rita's leg. "Trust me, Rita, he was ready. He was ready and then he almost lost you. You, almost lost your life and then you needed him. It is only after all that when you finally had the opportunity to work through _your_ fears and become 'ready,' like Cristoforo." Giuliana studied Rita intently and smiled. "I can see that your fears have vanished."

"Oh, yes. Whatever doubts I had about us making it to forever are long gone." Rita's eyes sparkled and a tender expression lit her face. "I mean, he's Chris... Now, doubts about being a mom, well, that's a whole nother story."

Giuliana waved off the notion with gentle nonchalance, while shaking her head from side to side. "_Normale_," she replied. "Every parent – no, every _good_ parent – never stops worrying about that. Especially, the mothers."

The final statement caused Giuliana to pause. She grew pensive, staring at the floor as she succumbed to thoughts that obviously troubled her. "Rosa...was a good mother." Giuliana lifted her gaze back to Rita. "It is very important to me, Rita, that you know that," she pleaded, defending her friend who could no longer defend herself. "Anna was not raised to treat her child as she did. She was raised on Rosa's love just as was Chris. Rosa was from the 'Old Country,'" Giuliana briefly shifted her eyes heavenward, then back. "Nothing but _Dio_ was above family. Nothing. Anna inherited Rosa's work ethic, but not her love for family – or even, her ability to love."

Rita slowly nodded, accepting the sentiment without reservation. "I believe you," she promised. She looked back down at the picture of Chris, void of the pain she had seen before, and reflected on her own past. "Our child will _never_ feel that loneliness," she vowed vehemently, bringing the conversation back to where it had begun.

"No," Giuliana agreed, "never, and I will tell you why.

"In Italian, 'to give birth' is '_dare a la luce_' – 'give to the light.' Bring your child, Rita, into the light that is your incredible and powerful love with Cristoforo. This light will surround him or her always and provide a security that will be the greatest blessing you could ever give."

"You...are amazing," Rita reeled. Getting up from the couch, she handed Giuliana the picture frame. "Thank you so much for sharing this with me. For sharing everything – just, thank you for everything." She laughed, feeling speechless and awe-stricken. They offered each other a tight embrace.

"_You_ are family," Giuliana affirmed with conviction.

"I like that," Rita beamed. "I haven't had that for a very long time."

Laughter returned as they strove to shake off their emotional states. "Now," Giuliana exclaimed, "shall we find our husbands?"

* * *

"I was beginning to think we'd need an APB out on you ladies," Chris teased as they neared the table. He regarded wife with concern. "You look tired, Sam."

"It's not the company," Rita promised, placing a hand on the curve of her protruding abdomen. The restaurant was now completely empty of customers and staff, signifying the lateness of the hour. They began packing up, all four of them thanking one another for the incredible evening.

Giuliana drifted sideways into Chris' arms, murmuring, "Cristoforo_ mio_," as he kissed the top of her head. Giuseppe and Rita were already arm-in-arm again walking toward the entryway, and Giuliana let the duo outpace her and Chris. While she couldn't hear Giuseppe's words, she watched him cup Rita's face with both hands and place a kiss on her forehead – as he did with all his granddaughters.

Giuliana pulled back from Chris and, holding his hands in hers, looked deep into his eyes. "I _like _her," she stated with genuine fervor. "Your grandmother would have liked her. She is dancing now knowing you have found such a love."

Chris gripped his great-aunt tightly. "I love you so much, _Zia_. Thank you for everything – as usual."

The Lorenzos swapped Ambrosios, with Chris and Giuseppe exchanging a bear hug. Giuseppe then held the back of Chris' neck with one hand while pointing the index finger of his other hand near Chris' face. Confident that he had the younger man's full attention, Giuseppe instructed, "you take care of her. You be good to her, and you treat her right."

"I give you my word, _Zio_."

Giuseppe offered a single blink and a strong nod of his head, indicating his acceptance of Chris' oath. "I am _proud_ of you, Cristoforo."

Chris looked to the man who represented the only constant male presence and role model throughout his life. Solemnly, he stated, "Grandma Rose always considered you and _Zia_ family – and so have I. In her absence, you both are great-grandparents to Rita's and my _bambino_."

* * *

Out on the street, Rita turned back, taking a final glance at the building. "I can't believe you never brought me here before! Chris, they are amazing!"

Instead of answering, Chris quickened his pace to reach the car first, holding open Rita's door.

"Christopher, that is so sweet of you."

Chris took both of her hands, kissing the ring on her right then the one on her left. Once she was situated, he shut her door.

Rita closed her eyes as Chris made his way around the car, her mind whirling as she recalled all the revelations and answers _Zio_ and _Zia_ had provided them. She would never forget their wisdom.

As they headed for home, she looked down at the rings Chris had just kissed. Her Sam had given her both. The Irish friendship ring... Four years ago, it had been placed on her left middle finger, and rarely removed. When it was, it was returned just as Chris had given it: with the heart pointing in, signifying "taken." Only after he offered Rita a second ring, her wedding band, did she ask him to permanently place it on her right hand in the same configuration. Giuliana and Giuseppe were right…they had always staked their claims to one another.

Chris' feather-light touch filtered through Rita's musings as he clasped her left hand where it lay on her lap. His right arm draped across her, causing their child to stir at the contact. Even through the dimness in the car, Rita could see Chris beam at the precious connection. She mirrored his reaction, as the one privy to both his touch and the internal sensation. "It's so surreal, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah..." Chris shook his head in wonder. "You two are the most important people in my life!"

Rita sighed in contentment, shutting her eyes again, and resting her head on Chris' arm.

"You know, Rita... I, uh – I told _Zio_ that with my grandma gone, he and _Zia_ are great-grandparents to our baby. I hope that's okay with you."

"Oh, yes," Rita stated emphatically, without hesitation, as her eyes flew open and she righted herself.

_You are family..._

_Zia_'s words echoed in Rita's mind.

She really was part of a family. For the longest time, Rita hadn't had _any_ family. But now... Now, she had Chris – not only as a partner and best friend, but as a husband. Harry and Frannie were more like parents to her and Chris than either of them had ever known. Chris had shared Giuliana and Giuseppe with her: grandparents? That was an utterly foreign concept to Rita.

Reflecting on all this, Rita realized how different her child's world would be, knowing a mom, a dad, grandparents, and great-grandparents. She concentrated on her heartbeat and the immense peace and love she had acquired through the visit with the Ambrosios. "_You are so loved, little one_," she thought, sending these emotions through the link they shared. "_So loved..._" Another movement came from within her, as if in reply.

In direct contrast to how light her soul felt, Rita's eyelids grew heavy once more and she allowed them to close. She knew she would sleep soundly tonight. She nestled as near to Chris as she could, wrapping one arm around his and trapping his hand between her abdomen and other hand.

"We still have twenty minutes, Rita. Why don't you rest till we get home?"

"Mmm, home," Rita murmured. "I love you, Sam."

"I love you, Sam."

_The End_


End file.
